


Bottom's Up

by CptKirsty



Category: Free!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, ConfusedSexuality!Sousuke, Lap Dances, M/M, Rich!Sousuke, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Stripping, bottom!Makoto, men in heels, stripper!Makoto, top!Sousuke
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-04
Updated: 2016-12-05
Packaged: 2018-08-29 01:45:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8470813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CptKirsty/pseuds/CptKirsty
Summary: Sousuke at 27 is the fastest rising  millionaire in Tokyo. "The Face of a New Age" the headlines praise. Everyone wanted a piece of him. Life was perfect.Until one wrong turn, leading to sinful green eyes.Now he's hooked. Confused. Addicted.What can the Bachelor do?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Is trash*  
> Just your typical, self-indulging, cliché fic of trust fund kid Sousuke and innocent sad dancer Makoto getting together and doing the deed.  
> Sorry not sorry!  
> Also, unfortunately I do not have a working computer. As such this fic is written purely from my cell phone.  
> So, I'm apologizing in advance for the terrible grammar and spelling errors that are sure to arise. As well as awful formatting. And very slow updates, because I become so frustrated typing away on my phone....  
> That being said! Read at your own risk! I'm not sure what kind of trash will ensue, but probably really filthy.... and angst probably...
> 
> Enjoy!

Sousuke felt out of place.

 

Hell, he was out of place. He stuck out like a sore thumb in his stark grey day suit that more than likely cost the monthly rent in this gaudy, dingy club. Probably more.

 

The thumping bass resonated in his chest as he sat staring down into the bottom of his whiskey. He gazed as the ice shifted, the amber alcohol reflecting the blue neon signs above his head. The sweat beaded and rolled down the side of the glass that was clenched tightly between both hands. He focused on the glass as he desperately tried to ignore the rowdy customers and the sour smell of booze and sweat.

 

God damn it, what was he doing here?

 

Frustrated, Sousuke drank heavily. Burning his throat and numbing his tongue. He slammed the empty glass onto the glossy countertop. “Another.”

 

He missed the raised brows and tilting side glance from behind vivid red frames as the bartender pulled a bottle of whiskey from the highest shelf.

 

Sousuke didn’t so much as lift his head as the bartender refilled with a double. Good man.

 

The bartender, Rei, as Sousuke learned during his regretfully frequent visits, cleared his throat with a quiet cough. “Excuse me sir, but you seem rather despondent this evening,” he remarked. “Well, more than usual.”

 

Sousuke’s brow twitched in irritation. “What?” he sneered as he chanced a glance at the noisy bartender.

 

Rei was rather tall, and peering down at him with a sharp and knowledgeable gaze from behind red frames. His cobalt hair shone vivid blue under the neon lights.

 

The bartender was actually quite handsome in a serious-type way. Especially in the smart, fitted and tapered black vest with a scarlet red tie and nothing else but lean, lean muscle.

 

Sousuke wanted to pull at his hair when he realized where his thoughts had gone. Fuck, he didn’t know what was wrong with him lately. He kept noticing… men, and… ugh, it was complicating.

 

“My apologies. But you have been visiting this establishment rather frequently Yamazaki-san. And so I couldn’t help but notice how low you appear to be tonight. Did something happen?”

 

Sousuke broke eye contact and glared at the dark stage. “Don’t worry about it.”

 

“Sou-Sou!”

 

Sousuke literally wilted at the absurdly chipper voice.

“Not now Nagisa. Yamazaki-san has had a bad day,” the bartender chided.

 

As if that could stop the train called Nagisa. The petite blonde boy bounced over to them regardless, while balancing a tray of vivid pink shots expertly. Not a single drop was wasted. It was a bit impressive.

“Eh?!” Nagisa gasped dramatically as he leaned into Sousuke’s shoulder, completely disregarding personal space. “What happened Sou-Sou?”

 

Sousuke glanced at the wide, youthful rose bud eyes. Nagisa was dressed in golds and vibrant violets tonight. His outfit highlighting his honey skin and lithe, slender hips. He was kind of cute today, even with his round face.

 

Fuck.

 

He noticed again. Wasn’t he supposed to be straight?!

 

“You’re both noisy.”

 

Rei huffed indignantly. But Nagisa’s curiosity morphed into a full blown, shit-eating, pot-stirring, trouble-causing Cheshire grin.

 

“Oh ho ho! I know exactly what this is about.” Suddenly the blonde’s arm had found a way around Sousuke’s neck, dragging him down to the boy’s level with surprising strength. “Listen here Rei-chan. Sou-Sou is straight. And yet he comes like clock-work to watch you-know-who.”

 

Rei crossed his arms and nodded. “Yes, I am aware.”

 

Nagisa nodded eagerly, his fluffy hair bouncing with the movement. It tickled Sousuke’s chin. “Little Sou-Sou is confused!”

 

Sousuke could practically feel the last of his dignity wither away within the dark recesses of his soul.

 

He really shouldn’t come here anymore… once was an accident, second was curiosity… but 5 weeks? Twice sometimes three times a week? He was pathetic.

 

“Interesting I believe you are quite right Nagisa.”

 

“Well of course I am!”

 

“Both of you shut up.” Sousuke sent each of them a scathing glare in turn before slamming back his whiskey again. It burned a scalding path from his tongue to his stomach.

 

Nagisa had relented his gripping hold.

 

“I’m not confused. I’m straight.” Well, probably. “So drop it.”

 

There was a tense silence for but a moment before Nagisa cracked and began to bellow in laughter. Rei snickered quietly in suit.

 

“Yeah yeah. Keep telling yourself that.” Nagisa had bent over to catch his breath. The tray of shots nearly following suit, saved in the nick of time by Rei’s quick hands. “Ah, that was a good one Sou-Sou.”

 

Sousuke bristled. “Don’t you two have anything better to do?” he snarled. “Like attend customers?”

 

At that, another bartender whimpered pathetically as he tried to keep up with the demanding crowd. He was rather meek, with a similar body type to Nagisa’s. He was pretty with almost feminine features. Silky silver hair, milky skin, a striking beauty mark under wide, endless blue sky eyes…

 

God, fucking, damn it!!!!

 

Rei yelped as he dashed to catch a nearly full bottle of vodka that Aii, the name of another bartender Sousuke had unfortunately come to know, nearly knocked over.

 

Aii was a dancer as well. Sousuke had seen his show before, and it was pretty good. He was shy and awkward, definitely an amateur. But the crowd adored him, and kept him busy all night.

 

Nagisa also danced. He was a regular at the club. Sousuke thought his dances were too exuberant and hyper, but the audience always seemed to crave his energy and vivacity like deprived and starving men.

 

As for Rei, as far as Sousuke could tell, he was only a bartender. But honestly, a damn good one. He always mixed the drinks with a science, creating a melody of flavors that went down way too easily. And for a dingy, run down bar, he kept it meticulous.

 

“Hey Sousuke, why don’t you ever request a dance or something? All you ever do is sit here all broody and dark. It scares the customers you know.”

 

Shit. Nagisa was still here, staring at him with wide eyes.

 

He focused instead on refilling his glass with the bottle Rei left behind. “Because I like to drink here.”

 

Nagisa groaned loudly as though he was pulling teeth. “Alright, drop the act. Say it how you want, but you always come when he is working. I’m not an idiot.”

 

Sousuke pretended not to see that determined pout. Instead he shrugged and sipped at his drink. Slamming back the previous drinks had brought a dull fog over his mind and a numbing tongue.

 

“Fine! I’m going to tell you something, but you can’t tell anyone! I mean it!”

 

There was something in his voice caught Sousuke’s attention. A certain urgency. Glancing at the blonde he was a bit taken back by the intensity in his eyes.

 

“Say it!” Nagisa snapped. “Promise me!”

 

“Uh, I promise,” Sousuke muttered feeling more befuddled than anything.

 

Nagisa took a deep breath before nodding eagerly. “Alright. Well, I over heard the floor manager say that they will have to let him go because he doesn’t bring in enough revenue!”

 

“It was terrible! She hounded him and he just – just took it! Like he understands! It’s not fair! He’s so good! And then there’s the…” He stopped abruptly as his eyes began to glaze and water. His voice thickened hoarsely.

 

But Sousuke couldn’t comfort him, because his own stomach had turned to led. His mouth ran bone dry. And all of a sudden he felt really nauseous. Like his world was crashing down around him…

 

It just… it couldn’t be possible right?! What would he do? He couldn’t… it wasn’t…

 

His head whipped to the dark stage as though expecting him to be there, all gentle smiles and bedroom eyes.

 

“Do you know what this means?” Nagisa sniffled.

 

Sousuke felt himself nod stiffly.

 

Around a month ago Sousuke was supposed to meet some business partners at an entertainment club as celebration for closing the deal earlier that day. Well it is really no secret but Sousuke is terrible with directions. He had taken a wrong turn or something, and somehow ended up here, at Bottom’s Up. And no, the euphemism was not lost on him.

 

Imagine his shock when he realized too late that this was a Gay strip club. The fact that he couldn't find his business partners in the club, or the surplus of men never dawned on him until suddenly a man was walking out on the stage to grind on the center pole.

 

He should have been appalled. Or disgusted. Or even horrified. He should have got up and left. As soon as he realized.

 

But he was mesmerized. Intrigued. And ridiculously turned on. He couldn’t turn his eyes from the dancer.

 

The dancer was gorgeous. In a Godly, worship him sort of way. And the way he rolled his hips… Shit, Sousuke still can’t get the image of him biting his lip like that.

 

Sousuke had gone home that night and beat his dick like his life depended on it. He touched himself to the images stained so vividly in his head. He had never cum so hard in his life.

 

And he did it again. And again. Every night that week.

 

Sex with woman quickly became no longer quite as satisfying. He replaced the high-pitched porno fake moans with deep grunts and shaky breaths. He had to picture strong jawlines and glistening muscle arching beneath him to get off.

 

The next week he found himself back at the club; same day, same time. Eagerly waiting for the dancer.

 

Sousuke was hooked. Like a dangerous drug, all it took was one shot and he was addicted. He craved the man. He needed his fix.

 

And it was only getting worse.

 

What would he do if… if he no longer danced…

 

“Sou-Sou you’ll buy a dance right?”

 

Sousuke jolted out of lewd thoughts. “What?”

 

“He has this week to round up enough revenue to keep his job. But I don’t think he has enough. So you’ll buy one right? You’ll help right?”

 

Abruptly sinful images flooded him. The dancer straddling him with strong thighs and flexing abdominals. Tanned skin and rolling hips. Hooded, lust burning eyes. Breathless lips and a daring pink tongue. A carved back and round ass grinding on his lap…

 

Sousuke glared at Nagisa. It was true the dancer was utterly gorgeous and damn good. But there was a sort of… goodness to the man. A heavenly presence. Like he should have cliché fluffy wings or a gold aura surrounding him. Because despite his sinful moves it was obvious he didn’t belong there…

 

That man should never be tainted.

 

“No,” he decided firmly.

 

“No?”

 

“It’s probably for the best,” he muttered into his glass. “He’s too good for this type of work.” Because honestly this would be the man’s out, and he should take it before he becomes stained by the filth of this place. Of this world.

 

And damn it, it killed Sousuke to admit it. Because he yearned to touch him. To be touched by him. With a hunger he had never known. Like he had been starving for the past 27 years and that dancer had woken him up.

 

Which is exactly why the dancer should get out of this filthy business.

 

Nagisa blinked owlishly at him. “You don’t know…” he said quietly, with a dawning realization.

 

Sousuke shot him a blistering glare. “Don’t know what?”

 

The blonde shrugged and pressed a pink concoction into Sousuke’s palm with an innocent grin. “I can’t say, but… You have to get a dance,” he emphasized.

 

And with that, Nagisa skipped away. “Tonight is the night Sou-Sou! Get the dance!” he called over his shoulder and the blasting music before disappearing into the crowd.

 

“Gentlemen and Gentle-twinks! It’s time to get the show on the road.” The music abruptly turned down to a low thumping bass as the MCs booming voice reverberated through the crowd.

 

And shit, god-damn fuck, but Sousuke could hardly contain his excitement.

 

If this was going to be the last time he watched the dancer, he might as well milk it for its every worth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Phew!
> 
> Who wants a second chapter?
> 
> *puts self in trash can*


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of all -- Wow!!!!  
> You guys are amazing!  
> I didn't realize there was so many SouMako fans like me!!! That makes me so happy!
> 
> I am so sorry for the wait! But thank you all so much for your patience!  
> To be honest, I truly like to make things as accurate as possible. So I try to do as much research as possible, which is what took me so dang long! I felt like I couldn't get the facts quite right.
> 
> ...Even now it feels sub-par and totally inaccurate.
> 
> Anywhoodles, bear with me, because in Chapter 3 is when we finally get to the real good stuff - if ya know what I mean!  
> (Trashy, filthy, smutty goodness!)
> 
> Well, enjoy!!!
> 
> **Is still trash**

"Gentlemen and Gentle-Twinks! It's time to get the show on the road." The boom of the DJ's voice pulsed against Sousuke's skin. The air was tense and thick, and practically palpable. As though he could reach up and actually scoop a handful of the quivering energy from the air above his head. And hot. God, it was so hot with so many bodies crammed into the small club. Sousuke grimaced and quickly shrugged off his suit coat as a bead of sweat rolled between his shoulder blades.

 

But he couldn't find it in himself to care, because finally, _finally_ , it was time.

 

All eager heads swiveled unanimously to the stage with eerie synchronization, like a pack of starving, feral wolves catching the scent of freshly spilled blood. The predatory crowd flocked and swarmed the stage. Rowdy shoulder pressed to rowdy shoulder, desperate to get as close as humanly possible.

 

And then suddenly, the stage lit up. An array of flushed pinks and wicked reds flooded his vision. A fast and hard electric song surged through the speakers, throbbing in his heart and stealing the breath from his burning lungs.

 

Then, just barely audible through the bass, was a sound that everyone knew all too well…

 

_Clack. Clack. Clack._

 

The unmistakable, undoubted steady click of heels on a polished floor.

 

Abruptly the thick black curtain at the back of the stage was thrown wide with a flourish, fluttering in the stagnant air. There, the dancer stood, revealing himself with a teasing grin and arms spread wide.

 

The crowd went wild.

 

The DJ had tried to introduce the oncoming dancer, but the thundering cries drowned out all else. Catcalls, roars, and cheers shook the walls with sheer volume.

 

This dancer didn't need an introduction. Everyone knew who he was. He was striking. He was infamous. He was the club favorite. The star of Bottom's Up. This was… Kisumi.

 

He soaked in all the attention as he glided along the edge of the stage. Blowing kisses, winking flirtatiously, and licking his lips in the most obscene way possible. Hands shot up as he circled the stage. Desperate and greedy for just a touch, a taste, of the man. Some slipped bills anywhere possible with lingering fingers. Others just hungirly and blindly groped. Kisumi strutted the full edge of the stage as though he was doing a victory lap, drinking in the worship from the men at his feet.

 

Even from his spot at the bar, Sousuke could see the playful and mischievous glint in those seemingly glowing eyes as Kisumi grinned and rounded to the metal pole in the center stage. Then all of a sudden, gripping the pole with both hands, the dancer dropped into a dance as hard and fast as the pulsing beat.

 

The crowd went wild a second time.

 

It wasn't hard to see why Kisumi was the club favorite. He was clearly male with lean, tight muscles, and wide shoulders. Undisputedly handsome in his angular face, sharp cheeks, and sultry smile. And there was this degree of androgynous charm in the fluffy, rose hair, milky skin, and subtle tapered waist.

 

But it was his trademark, wicked boots that had men begging on their knees. Sky-high, platform heeled boots, shiny and stark black, that crawled up his ankles, calves, and thighs. Hugging and clinging to the curves as if it were black oil poured right over his skin.

 

And he danced. Kisumi danced hard and fast, and like pure, unadulterated sex. He seduced and enraptured the crowd with ease.

 

He was pure talent. Amazing and gorgeous. It was obvious that Kisumi danced because he loved it. Loved to perform, to entertain. He had this burning passion. A fire. A fervor. A thirst. And it was painted vividly into his dancing.

 

Even Sousuke could appreciate that…

 

But what Sousuke couldn't understand the thrill of a dance so hard and fast. Ass shaking like it's a part of the fucking twerk team.

 

No, what Sousuke craved was slow, sensual, and drawn out. Like embers that would keep burning all night long. He thirsted for sultry bedroom eyes. Carnal hunger that ran deep and untamed, hidden in hazy verdant eyes...

 

A shiver ran down his spine, prickling across his pelvis and burning deep in his groin.

 

Fuck…

 

Pulling his eyes from the stage, Sousuke downed the remains of his drink. His hand reached out blindly, grasping for the whiskey bottle Rei left behind. He didn't hesitate to refill his glass as the ever-efficient Rei likely already charged it to his tab. He drank heavily, reveling in the trail of fire that pouring down his throat and blossomed in the pit of his chest.

 

And repeated.

 

Until he felt thoroughly drowned in the burn. Tongue thick and heavy in his mouth, cheeks numb, and a permanent smolder across his broad chest. His head buzzed pleasantly. Body loose and boneless. His previous anxieties that had been running rampant in his mind for weeks had finally been chased into the far and dark recesses, completely out of sight.

 

There... that was much better.

 

Much, much better.

 

It was only the flicker of lights from the corner of Sousuke's eye that had him finally lifting his head from the glossy bar top. He caught a glimpse of rose hair and thigh-high boots sauntering across the floor and sliding into a booth along the back wall. Kisumi then shimmied onto the lap of a rather young looking man. Hands circled the bare waist and -- _oh_. Oh!

 

Sousuke tore his eyes from the scene. And shit... his face felt really hot.

 

He almost watched another man about to get his rocks off to a scantily clad stripper grinding on him.

 

Wait...

 

His mind felt sluggish, perhaps one too many drinks, and struggled to piece together why the pinkette was on the floor and not on the stage...

 

Sousuke abruptly shot straight up. Startling Aii so badly, that the bartender squeaked and sloshed liqueur all over the counter and floor.

 

But he paid it no mind, because the stage had all his attention. It was empty. And so dark, and that meant...

 

"Ow-ow!" The DJ howled. "That was sinful. Erotic! Gents, show some love to Kisumi!" The audience bellowed in return.

 

The music gradually slowed to a steady, sinful beat. Amber lights casted a golden hue across the room and enveloped the stage.

 

"If you're sippen' you better be tippen'!" Sousuke guiltily felt the physical pang from that blow. "Get ready men! Because the gorgeous, the sensual, the _Mister-Fuck-Me-Bedroom-Eyes_ is taking stage!"

 

Sousuke watched with rapt attention and a hammering heart.

 

Because _finally_ he was there...

 

"Makoto~!"

 

Standing at the back of the stage was the man that had been haunting his dreams and corrupting his life for weeks. And God damn it, but Makoto was smiling softly, in that sinfully sweet way with his head tilted just-so. The same smile that had Sousuke melting in his seat. Because how could anyone's smile be so pure, so warm, so fucking _angelic_ when they were about to strip in front of a leaching, hungry crowd.

 

Makoto is walking to the front of the stage with slow, sure steps, punctuated by the steady, heavy beat. Hips swaying enticingly. He stops in front of the audience, mere inches from wandering, grasping hands. And then he is pushing back his fringe from his eyes while giving that lethal heart-breaker smile.

 

 _Fuck_ those eyes like that should be illegal.

 

Eyes burning like hot golden embers are searing through the audience, and right to Sousuke's groin, in the most delicious and enticing way. But his smile gives way to drawing his bottom lip between his teeth while tugging on the green tie at his neck.

 

Makoto is wearing tight black pants with a belt, a short-sleeve white button-down, and simple black loafers. The tie is gone and dropping to the ground. It is such a stark contrast to the blatant sex of Kisumi. It's slow and sensual, but in an untainted, pure way that makes Sousuke feel so filthy for his thoughts.

 

The dancer's costume almost looks like something Sousuke has seen... like a high-school uniform...

 

And abruptly Sousuke's mouth is drier than the Tottori sand dunes, because Makoto _is_ wearing a men's high-school uniform. It's so wrong. So, so wrong. And Sousuke wants someone to punch him, or slam his face into the bar, but he can't look away. He can't, and he should. Because this is so wrong.

 

But it looks so _right._

 

Makoto is rocking his hips to the bass now. Heel stomping to the rising rhythm. And his hands are in his hair again. Sultry, half-lidded eyes are staring across the room. Soft pink lips are parted and his head is tilted back just slightly. Fingers make deliberate trails down his body, slowly, leading Sousuke's eyes lower and lower, until they are gripping at his hips and oh god, he is grinding his ass into the air.

 

Makoto drags it out. He pulls everyone to the edge and keeps them there, hot and breathless. He teases at the buckles and buttons. Taunting with flashes and peaks of the tanned skin, and taut muscles underneath. Until finally his shirt is sliding off his arms and his bared chiselled body is glowing under the gold lights. And _fuck-Sousuke-sideways_ , but Makoto really does look like the Greek Mythological God that Nagisa proclaims him to be.

 

He takes the pole in one hand, tips his head back, and smoothly arches until he is rounded at an impossible angle. And Sousuke can't fucking swallow, because somehow those amber eyes seem to have landed directly on him. Time has slowed to a stop. Sousuke's heart stutters and jumps into his throat to suffocate him. And he can't help but think that this may not be such a bad way to die. It feels like an eternity, but it's just a moment in time. Makoto is already bending forward and displaying the smooth bow of his back.

 

He doesn't dance hard or fast, or 'booty-poppin twerk team'. In fact, his dancing makes Sousuke even forget that he is sitting on a squeaking stool, in a seedy strip club, on the rundown side of Tokyo on a Friday night. Makoto dances with a fluidity in his movements, as though he is the embodiment of both water and air. He is sensual and stirring. Slow and flexible. Elegant and graceful.

 

He is utterly enchanting...

 

But then his clothes are gone, save for the tight, deep green briefs hugging his ass and the black loafers on his feet. His body his fucking perfection. A balance of rippling muscle on an angular frame and that lean, lean waist. It makes Sousuke's mouth water, and he wonders just how good that skin would taste on his tongue. What would happen if he were to bite and mare the man's body with kiss marks. Would he writhe and whimper beneath him? Or would he gasp and groan glutterly? Maybe he would actually be straddling Sousuke, with his hot mouth pressed wetly against his neck. Grinding their hips together and --

 

Suddenly, the lights dim and the world becomes dark once more. Sousuke blinks dully against the abrupt shift. His perverse thoughts shattering.

 

Was it over?

 

That was... it? That was Makoto's last performance?

 

...

 

Fuck.

 

_Fuck._

 

It wasn't enough.

 

But that is the last that Sousuke will ever see of Makoto.

 

And that thought... it crushes Sousuke.

 

God.

 

Sousuke really has a problem.

 

He really is hooked. Obsessed. Addicted.

 

Sousuke turns back to the bar as he tries to gather himself. He releases the breath he hadn't noticed he was holding. And peels the grip from the bartop he hadn't realized he was clutching.

 

He feels... lost all of a sudden. Disorientated. What was he to do now? Sousuke should go back to his normal life. But could he? After all this, could he really go back to the way things were?

 

Damn it. It seriously felt like his world had abruptly been turned over. Everything he thought he knew had been upheaved. His very foundation cracking all because of one dancer with pretty eyes and a nice smile. Sousuke scrubbed a hand over his face and pushed back his short hair. He was a mess.

 

Sousuke eyed the near empty bottle of whiskey. He has already had plenty to drink. Too much to drink. But he just wants to drown in the liquor until he is numb from the tips of his toes to the roots of his hair.

 

Suddenly, he is yanked with a dizzying force. The club spins around him, blue neon blurring overhead. He fumbles and has to grip the countertop to keep from falling off the stool.

 

He glares coldly at the culprit. A vicious lashing ready on his tongue.

 

But it dies in a hot instant when he is staring up into verdant eyes.

 

The man smiles coyly and tips his head to the side just-so. The dark blonde fringe sweeps across his brow.

 

Then there is a knee pressing between his legs. _And shit, fuck, is this even real?_

 

"I heard you were looking for a dance?" The sweetness of his voice beguiles the heat in his hooded eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OmgomgomgOMERGERD!
> 
> ...
> 
> So who thought Makoto was going to show up in heels?
> 
> Stripper Kisumi was inspired by Yanis Marshall. If you haven't heard of him, get on the tube box and watch his videos! He is a God on heels. Seriously how can he dance so good on those things?!
> 
> Anyway. When I was developing Kisumi all I could think of was heels. I probably have a problem....
> 
> Comments? Suggestions? Penny for your thoughts?
> 
> (Did you know in Canada we have eradicated the penny? It's so sad... I miss them little guys)


End file.
